Buried in the gnarled branches of passageways and hidden alleys is a shop that everyone knows. Tae Min never used to go, “a respectable family man” his coworkers said, as if it was something to ashamed of. He simply had no desire to go. He wasn’t artistic in the slightest and despite working with corpses all day he was squeamish around blood and needles. He was getting better though, the smell of antiseptic and incense didn’t make him queasy anymore.
Seventh Daughter Tattoo Shop was the best, for all that it was hidden away in the bowels of Jisang. You wanted a tattoo that would last? You went the Seven. Wanted something delicate or lacey? You went to Seven. Wanted shades of blue and red you only saw in holos? You went to Seven.
Ayumi was at the receptionist’s desk today, rifling through a tattered copy of Marie Claire with manicured nails and a stick of chewing gum smacking between her teeth. She was a bit older than Tae, at least he thought so. It was hard to tell how many wrinkles were buried under the powdered makeup, matte lipstick, and ash stained hair. A lot of people in the lower levels had taken to doing that lately.
“Afternoon Tae,” she greeted without looking up from her magazine. How she always knew who was walking through the door before it even opened was a mystery he was better off not knowing.
“Afternoon Ayumi,” he replied, fidgeting nervously with the tassels of his overcoat. It wasn’t his best work, the patches of fabric were frayed and almost grey at the edges and the stitching where the sleeves meet the main body was already falling apart. Somehow he ended up with three tassels in the front and developed the bad habit of fiddling with them or getting caught in doors.
“What can I getcha today?” she asked, all teeth and snapping gum. Her eyes were razor sharp peeking over the top of the magazine cover.
“A needle or two if you have any,” he said, pulling out the fragments of a snapped metal needle from his endless pockets. She picked one up between her nails and brought it closer for inspection.
“What cheap ass shop did you pick this up from? Better not have been another tat shop or I’m kicking someone’s ass.”
Tae choked on a laugh. “Ah, no I traded a coworker half a copper pipe for it. It worked alright for a while until I tried some thicker fabrics and it snapped.”
“No shit, this is probably just a flake off of something they sharpened. Hold on I’ll get you something better.” She put down the magazine and pushed aside the beaded curtain leading to the storage room.
Tae tapped his fingers on the reception desk and listened absently to the sound of crashing boxes and muffled curses.
“Thanks again for letting me hang around Bae Sang,” a voice called from the parlor room. A young woman hefting a worn shoulder bag full of sketchbooks walked out, waving to someone out of Tae’s sight.
“Any time Seung-Wan, and thanks for the peaches” the other voice called back.
“Any time!”
“Afternoon Seung-Wan.” Tae said, giving a small wave.
“Oh Tae! Good to see you. Here for some more dye?” she asked.
“Ah no, a new needle actually.”
“Still sewing?”
Tae rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Trying to at least. I’m no seamstress by any means”
Seung-Wan nodded in understanding. “I still think it’s admirable you’re trying. It’s an important skill.”
“Yeah well, I figured I’ve got no head for numbers so might as well try something I can at least help my family with even if I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” Tae shrugged.
“You don’t have to come up with designs to be a good seamstress,” Seung-Wan reassured him. “You can have the best designs in the world but they mean nothing if you can’t construct them. There will always be someone to do the thinking if you can do the leg work.”
“Huh, hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Are you sure you need to be doing this though?” Seung-Wan asked carefully.
“I think so,” Tae said slowly. He knew Seung-Wan’s folks had gone After. “Wherever people go when they go After, they don’t come to us in the crematory. More people going After, less people for us. I just want to be ready in case they start laying people off.”
It was silent save for the buzz of the tattoo machine in the parlor room and the ceiling fan while Seung-Wan absorbed his words and their implications. If the bodies weren’t getting burned, then where were they going? Seung-Wan went to ask, for more information maybe, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by a triumphant shout from the back room and Ayumi bursting through the beaded curtain.
“Got it!” she yelled, handing Tae the needle. “Here you go sugar, Yesung broke it the other day but it’s too small for us to reuse.”
“Thanks Ayumi!” he said grinning. He gingerly took the needle and raised it to the light. He’d have to be careful with the ragged end where the needle had snapped but it was thicker and sturdier than his previous needle had been. If he has careful this could last his a long time. He placed the needle on the desk for a moment before reaching into his pockets and pulling out 2 pomegranates and three medium sized jars.
“Here you go, two jars of ammonia and a jar of potash. And some pomegranates for putting up with me.”
Ayumi took the jar of potash and a jar of ammonia but pushed the rest back. Tae tried to hand them back but Ayumi waved a scolding finger at him.
“None of that now, that’s more than enough for one broken needle. Hang onto that jar for another time and treat your kids to the sweets. We’ve got plenty here from other customers we don’t need any spoiling.”
Tae tried to argue but everytime he tried to get a word in Ayumi cut him off.
“You’re better off quitting now,” Seung-Wan laughed. “You’re not going to win.”
Seventh Daughter Tattoo Shop was the best, for all that it was hidden away in the bowels of Jisang. You wanted a tattoo that would last? You went the Seven. Wanted something delicate or lacey? You went to Seven. Wanted shades of blue and red you only saw in holos? You went to Seven.
Ayumi was at the receptionist’s desk today, rifling through a tattered copy of Marie Claire with manicured nails and a stick of chewing gum smacking between her teeth. She was a bit older than Tae, at least he thought so. It was hard to tell how many wrinkles were buried under the powdered makeup, matte lipstick, and ash stained hair. A lot of people in the lower levels had taken to doing that lately.
“Afternoon Tae,” she greeted without looking up from her magazine. How she always knew who was walking through the door before it even opened was a mystery he was better off not knowing.
“Afternoon Ayumi,” he replied, fidgeting nervously with the tassels of his overcoat. It wasn’t his best work, the patches of fabric were frayed and almost grey at the edges and the stitching where the sleeves meet the main body was already falling apart. Somehow he ended up with three tassels in the front and developed the bad habit of fiddling with them or getting caught in doors.
“What can I getcha today?” she asked, all teeth and snapping gum. Her eyes were razor sharp peeking over the top of the magazine cover.
“A needle or two if you have any,” he said, pulling out the fragments of a snapped metal needle from his endless pockets. She picked one up between her nails and brought it closer for inspection.
“What cheap ass shop did you pick this up from? Better not have been another tat shop or I’m kicking someone’s ass.”
Tae choked on a laugh. “Ah, no I traded a coworker half a copper pipe for it. It worked alright for a while until I tried some thicker fabrics and it snapped.”
“No shit, this is probably just a flake off of something they sharpened. Hold on I’ll get you something better.” She put down the magazine and pushed aside the beaded curtain leading to the storage room.
Tae tapped his fingers on the reception desk and listened absently to the sound of crashing boxes and muffled curses.
“Thanks again for letting me hang around Bae Sang,” a voice called from the parlor room. A young woman hefting a worn shoulder bag full of sketchbooks walked out, waving to someone out of Tae’s sight.
“Any time Seung-Wan, and thanks for the peaches” the other voice called back.
“Any time!”
“Afternoon Seung-Wan.” Tae said, giving a small wave.
“Oh Tae! Good to see you. Here for some more dye?” she asked.
“Ah no, a new needle actually.”
“Still sewing?”
Tae rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Trying to at least. I’m no seamstress by any means”
Seung-Wan nodded in understanding. “I still think it’s admirable you’re trying. It’s an important skill.”
“Yeah well, I figured I’ve got no head for numbers so might as well try something I can at least help my family with even if I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” Tae shrugged.
“You don’t have to come up with designs to be a good seamstress,” Seung-Wan reassured him. “You can have the best designs in the world but they mean nothing if you can’t construct them. There will always be someone to do the thinking if you can do the leg work.”
“Huh, hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Are you sure you need to be doing this though?” Seung-Wan asked carefully.
“I think so,” Tae said slowly. He knew Seung-Wan’s folks had gone After. “Wherever people go when they go After, they don’t come to us in the crematory. More people going After, less people for us. I just want to be ready in case they start laying people off.”
It was silent save for the buzz of the tattoo machine in the parlor room and the ceiling fan while Seung-Wan absorbed his words and their implications. If the bodies weren’t getting burned, then where were they going? Seung-Wan went to ask, for more information maybe, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by a triumphant shout from the back room and Ayumi bursting through the beaded curtain.
“Got it!” she yelled, handing Tae the needle. “Here you go sugar, Yesung broke it the other day but it’s too small for us to reuse.”
“Thanks Ayumi!” he said grinning. He gingerly took the needle and raised it to the light. He’d have to be careful with the ragged end where the needle had snapped but it was thicker and sturdier than his previous needle had been. If he has careful this could last his a long time. He placed the needle on the desk for a moment before reaching into his pockets and pulling out 2 pomegranates and three medium sized jars.
“Here you go, two jars of ammonia and a jar of potash. And some pomegranates for putting up with me.”
Ayumi took the jar of potash and a jar of ammonia but pushed the rest back. Tae tried to hand them back but Ayumi waved a scolding finger at him.
“None of that now, that’s more than enough for one broken needle. Hang onto that jar for another time and treat your kids to the sweets. We’ve got plenty here from other customers we don’t need any spoiling.”
Tae tried to argue but everytime he tried to get a word in Ayumi cut him off.
“You’re better off quitting now,” Seung-Wan laughed. “You’re not going to win.”
“Fine,” Tae huffed, and tucked everything away, “but I’ll remember this.”
“Good,” Ayumi grinned wickedly. “Let it be a lesson.”
Tae Min just laughed and waved goodbye. “I better be going. Have a great day ladies.”
“Annyeong Tae Min,” they said.
“Don’t worry about the dead, things'll straighten out soon!” Ayumi added. Seems she overheard their conversation afterall.